


for my heart, chain mail

by usure



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Post-War, BAMF Luna Lovegood, Bisexual Ginny Weasley, Bisexual Luna Lovegood, Emotional Hurt, F/F, F/M, Female Friendship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Grief/Mourning, Harry is Gay ™️, Healer Harry Potter, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death, Prophecy, Recovery, Romance, SO VERY GAY, Slow Burn, Trauma, housewife draco malfoy, the comfort will come later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:55:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23125105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/usure/pseuds/usure
Summary: Luna Lovegood knows that Nargles always surround those that are destined to love each other. It's one of the first things that she had learned from her mother, along with the fact that Dirigible Plum tea tastes like pickled feet. Now, she’s wishing that she couldn’t see Nargles. It would make her life a lot easier.a.k.a:An exploration of post-war Hogwarts, why and how every character deserved better, and the potential of Luna Lovegood.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Luna Lovegood & Charlie Weasley, Neville Longbottom/Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom/Luna Lovegood/Ginny Weasley
Comments: 4
Kudos: 27





	1. sacred wunderkind

**Author's Note:**

> hi y’all!
> 
> i finally took the first big step. i posted a work to this site! with my classes being online for the rest of the semester, i might even be able to maintain an update schedule! (fingers crossed)
> 
> fic title inspo: « hunger of the pine » by Alt-J  
> 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Harry requires sleep but is still obsessed with Draco, Luna gains brightly colored eyebrows, and the Fat Lady is an absolute gossip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope that everyone taking the time to read this has a lovely evening, night or morning, and that good things happen for you! stay safe and wash your hands! 
> 
> chapter title inspo: « these things take time » by the Smiths

Luna Lovegood knows that Nargles always surrounded those that were destined to love each other. It's one of the first things that she had learned from her mother, along with the fact that Dirigible Plum tea tastes like pickled feet. The radish shaped fruit themselves were delicious when raw, the flavor of your favorite dessert. She could remember biting into a peeled plum, and reveling in childish satisfaction as the sticky juice ran down her chin and cherry pie danced on her tongue.

*********************************************

Luna Lovegood wakes quietly on a Saturday morning with a teary face and shaky limbs. She wipes the tear tracks away with a practiced hand, and lightly twists and slides out of bed. The charms and spells that surround her bedpost (shield, silencing, protecting, intruder beware, confundus) rustle as she pushes the thick curtains apart.

Fully dressed and with damp hair from a brief shower, Luna makes her way down to the common room. She avoids the trick step that makes her feet slippery with grease, and steps on the one that gives her neon green eyebrows. She needs a pick me up after her disturbed and restless sleep. The common room is nearly empty, and the high lofted ceiling creates an unpleasant cold draft that wasn't present in the stairway. The single other occupant is a fourth year, head slumped between piled scrolls and an upended ink bottle. 

Luna idly watches black ink run perilously close to the boy's head, remembering that he had been one of the students that had stolen her charms textbook last Thursday and had desecrated the cover. She carefully places the ink bottle right side up, and uses the corner of the student's robe to mop up the spilled ink. Luna presses her thumb into the soaked hem of the robe, and smears a wobbly smiley face onto the boy's forehead. Satisfied, she slips out of the doorway into the hallway, turning to pat the ornate door knocker.

"Have any good riddles for me today, Mr. Knocker?"

The face on the door knocker shook his head sadly. 

"Nothing you haven't already heard." 

Luna hums sympathetically.

"I'll think of some new ones." She said decisively.

"But dear, then you'll know them and I'll have to ask someone else!" The door-knocker's face twists into a mock-horrified expression at that last part and Luna giggles, muffling the sound in the fabric of her robe.

"That would be a shame, Mr. Knocker. Perhaps you could ask the rather large troll in that painting over there. He looks like an individual who appreciates word plays." 

Said troll laughs uproariously at that, and proceeds to garble in troll to the knocker. Luna senses the beginning of a conversation that she would greatly enjoy if it were not spoken in troll. Perhaps she could ask the troll to teach her troll later, he seemed to be a very nice being!

Luna was still smiling to herself, turning off the main hallway and into a dimly lit side corridor when she ran into someone. Quite literally. She landed in the floor with a soft thump, air knocked completely out of her lungs in a wheezy exhale.

"Are you okay?" Harry Potter's worried face suddenly entered her vision, and she took the offered hand gratefully. Then Luna looked at Harry, really looked at him.

"It's alway good to see you Harry, but it would be better if it weren't in the middle of the night."

Harry flushed, a guilty expression playing over his face. 

" I know. Ron and Hermione try to keep me on track, but I've been investigating something. Something important.”

"Hmmm, it must be important if you're up this late." 

Harry puffed himself up, and Luna readied herself for one of his infamous rants.

"Malfoy missed a Potions class this week. He's never missed a Potion's class ever. He misses all the classes the day before Samhain but that's because he goes back to his parent's house. And he usually misses a few days during flu season because he has a weak immune system. He's also been looking a lot more pale lately, and he's got huge eye-bags-!"

Luna tries not to laugh at Harry's analysis. She hadn't known him for very long compared to his Gryffindor friends, but he was amusingly stubborn and dedicated when he wanted to be. Luna was also delighted when she learned that Harry has a soft spot the size of Antarctica for Malfoy, even if he denied it vehemently. Eventually, Harry would have to accept that he was infatuated with the blonde. But it seems as though he was oblivious to the true nature of his obsession. Suddenly, she’s struck by the thought that she's glad that she had the chance to meet him, really meet him, and she impulsively interrupts Harry's long-winded rant to tell him just that. He blinks at the sudden interruption, reminding Luna of a just woken cat. How cute-!

"Umm, thanks Luna? I'm glad that I met you too?" Harry backtracks a bit, eyes suddenly wide "Wait, I didn't mean for it to sound like that. I really do appreciate our friendship!" He stops again, and wildly scrubs at his forehead, the crinkled line in his forehead deepening in a clear sign of exhaustion. "I'm sorry, I guess that I'm more tired than I thought..."

Luna smiles fondly, if a bit worriedly, and without further explanation slides her hand under Harry's upper arm. She then turns towards the vague direction of the Gryffindor common room, dragging Harry behind her as he flails. 

"Well, it's good that you admit that you have a problem!" Luna starts cheerfully, ignoring Harry's sputters, "Wrackspurts positively surround you, but some sleep should help with that. You should really take better care of your health, you know. I have a sleeping potion that you can use, it's really quite wonderful."

She estimates that they're about halfway to their destination when Harry stops trying to politely decline her remedy offers (despite common belief, there is a reason why Luna is in Ravenclaw, and it's not because she doesn't fit into any other house. She's intelligent enough to know her own worth, even if no one else does.) His hands begin to tremble again, and Luna slides her hand down Harry's arm to gently grasp the one closest to her. He stiffens a little bit, and Luna stops and turns to face him, halting their forward progress. She slips her hands into both of his, loose enough for him to pull away if he needed to.

He didn't move though, aside from a light spasm of his fingers when their hands connected. The lost expression on Harry's face gained a deep level of sadness, and it made him look ten years older. Luna knew that she was probably overstepping her boundaries, but more than anything she wanted to ease the tension in Harry's limbs, if even a little. 

"Is this okay Harry? If you're worried about me slipping you chocolates infused with love potion, please don't be. You're a lovely fellow, but you're not my type." 

"What," he starts weakly, but Luna continues. 

She knows that he's been followed around by an increasing number of girls and boys since the end of last year, when the war's end was still fresh and many bodies were barely buried. She also knows that despite, and perhaps because of the frequent well-wishers and rise in fame that accompanied Voldemort's defeat, Harry has been... Well, Harry and several others have been unable to deal with human contact beyond the occasional back slap or handshake. Even though she wasn't privy to the reasons behind Harry and Ginny's cooling relationship and eventual separation, she knew that Harry's worsening touch aversion somehow influenced the outcome.

And it's not as though it didn't make sense to her. She knew, even before the war, that the loss of the loved one made an intimate touch harder to stomach, leaving a crawling sensation that wouldn't dissipate for hours at a time. Luna hated that Harry was left in such a state, when he had just begun to open up to others. She hated the fact that any of her friends or family had to deal with loss on such a massive scale. But she now had a chance to make at least one person feel better, and she would take that chance. 

"I know that..." She pauses, trying to collect her thoughts, "That it's been hard this year. And I know that it's been hard to trust again. I want you to know it's okay to take time to recover. You don't need to be perfect."

His mouth opened and closed with no sound escaping, and Luna waited patiently for him to figure out what he wanted to say. She politely ignored the way Harry gripped her hand increasingly hard as seconds passed by. 

"Thanks." The word was barely more than a whisper, but Luna heard it perfectly clear. She grinned at Harry, and then continued to tug them towards the Gryffindor common room. Time for a different topic.

"So" she started conversationally, "Malfoy."

With an air of delight, Luna watches Harry flush, balk at flushing and then deflate collapse like a depuffed owl. 

"You're evil Luna, you know that right?" Harry looks utterly resigned towards his lot in life, and Luna giggles.

"So there is something there!" Luna starts delightedly, before Harry claps a hand over her mouth. She didn't think that it was possible for a human face to get that red. Then Harry realizes what he's done, and he hurriedly removes his hand.

"Err, sorry," He says sheepishly, hand reaching up to rub at his scar, "It's just ..."

"Not what you expected."

"Yeah. Or really what I wanted," Harry droops even more. They're almost to Gryffindor Tower, and while there's no one around, Harry still instinctively drops his voice. It's as if he expects the smallest mention of a Slytherin will wake all of the Gryffindors and send them as a mob of righteous fury right towards the two insomniacs. Honestly, Gryffindor and Slytherin themselves probably would never have anticipated this level of rivalry. 

Luna returns mentally to the conversation at hand, noticing that Harry is still staring at the floor. She gently tugs at their still interlaced fingers, and smiles gently at Harry's wan face.

"It quite alright Harry," Luna plows over Harry's soft sound of indignation. She didn't mean to push him this far tonight, she had this confrontation planned for a later date, but .... Harry deserved to be happy and if she had to drag him kicking and screaming she would. "Love of that sort is rarely expected or wanted in the beginning, but if it's cultivated... Love can change everything. Be anything and everything if that's what you want. It's the sort of love that my parents had." 

Luna tastes a hint of cherry, and internally shuddered at the ill-timed remnant of her dream. She grinned, ignoring the lingering taste and continues:

"Also, Draco is rather handsome. Not the most pleasant personality, but you two suit each other, especially with your own lovely personality." She then turns to walk down the last few corridors, ignoring Harry's sound of protest. 

She's unbelievably thankful that Harry didn't bring attention to her moment of moroseness. Despite common opinion, Harry was incredibly perceptive and empathetic, and was able to read a room with a higher level of competency than most adults. It might be a good thing that his empathy is not well discussed, Luna thinks as they approach the Fat Lady. It's such a vulnerable trait for someone so immersed in the public's eye, something so easy to exploit and undermine and reduce until nothing but bitterness is left. 

Luna surfaces from her dark thoughts to realize that her and Harry are paused awkwardly in front of the Fat Lady, who looks like a golden egg just fell into her lap. The painting was well known for her penchant for gossip, and an eighth year Gryffindor and a seventh year Ravenclaw wandering in the early morning and - Luna looks down to confirm - still loosely holding hands.

"Well, you know the drill child," The Fat Lady says, glee still dancing in her painted eyes.

Harry dutifully recited the password, nodding gratefully at Luna's foresight to cover her ears. The door swings open, and a surprised Neville Longbottom stands on the other side.

Ah. 

Luna hasn't been avoiding Neville per say, but she has been avoiding Neville. There's something light and fluttery in her chest that tries to dig itself out everytime she sees him. If Ginny knew this, something that Luna is well aware of what it means, Ginny would whack her on the head with her Charms textbook and tell Luna just how stupid she was being. As it is, she has a scant second or two to pull herself together enough to not arouse suspicion. She smiles brightly, eyes fixed on the woodwork just behind Neville's head. 

"Hiya Harry," Neville's usually enthusiastic greeting is subdued, and Luna feels a tinge of guilt at that that she resolutely stamps down. She sees him turn slightly, and her gaze is captured by the paleness of freckled cheeks and carefully blank eyes. They're usually such a bright and engaged hazel, with light smile lines that crinkle with every other word. Now they look dull and like mud. She avoids thinking about why this bothers her.

He clears his mouth, and Luna smiles tightly at him. "Hello Luna."

"Hello Neville," Harry turned towards her sharply, an eyebrow clearly raised. Luna ignores this, and takes a few seconds to walk backwards (definitely not stumbling) away from the common room entrance.

"I'll see you later Harry!" She called, feet directing her to somewhere far away from Neville Longbottom and his scruffy beard and kind eyes and-

Oh bugger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guys i love the idea of healer harry so much. i unrepentantly project my future dreams onto him, but it fits his personality well so whatever. also, luna’s actions are all over the place this chapter for a reason. don’t worry, i can actually write! thank you so much for reading, please show this story some love!


	2. hello again, friend of a friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Draco and Luna discuss muggle inventions, and Luna realizes that she also has battle wounds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey y’all
> 
> i know that it’s so soon, but I’m really excited about this fic! i’ve created a Spotify playlist and everything. 
> 
> chapter title inspo: « black sheep » by Scott Pilgrim vs the World.
> 
> anyways, i hope that everyone’s friday is/was a good start to the weekend. please stay safe!

It's a perfect day outside for the middle of January, with a nearly clear sky and a chill breeze that ruffles Luna's hair. she sitting on the rocky shore of the black lake, sketching on a parchment that is enchanted to stay stiff and straight despite hanging vertically in thin air. The water, cold and nearly clear, lapped at the edges of her bare feet. Luna hums quietly, a catchy muggle song that she had heard in St. Waterpole over the summer. She hears the quiet scuff of shoe against rock, and without turning around says,

"It's a lovely day for Giant Squid watching, is it not?" 

When all Luna gets is silence in return, she tilts her head backwards to see an upside and scowling Draco Malfoy.

"Loo- Lovegood, what is this that I hear about you and Potter rendezvousing after curfew?" 

Draco catches himself before he finishes her rather infamous nickname. Luna would like to think that her raised wand was only part of the reason Draco stopped. She so would like Harry to not be hung up over a completely irredeemable git. It takes Luna's brain a bit to get caught up on the rest of what Draco said. She manages to prevent her jaw from dropping, but twin spots of pink appear high on her cheeks at Draco’s insinuation. Draco seems to take this as an admission, and starts to rant unceremoniously.

"First of all, I didn't realize that even the strangest Ravenclaw that I have ever meet wasn't immune to Potter's stardom. What did he do, sweep you off your feet with his bumbling praise and mediocre sweets? Or was it those damned glasses? One would think that after 8 years he would at least attempt to get them fixed. And is it true that you actually held hands with the git?"

Luna was trying her best not to laugh at loud at the similarities between Harry and Draco's rants. It was perhaps even more telling that there was barely the space of 13 hours between when Luna had left Harry at the entrance of the Gryffindor common room and when Draco had found her here. Regardless, she was rather envious of the extent Draco's information network must extend throughout the castle. Even though he clearly didn't know the subject of their conversation (good thing that, the growth of Nargles around the two boys was too tentative to survive something like that so early on), he was unnervingly informed.

Luna then realized that Draco had been staring at her for quite some time, given by the plain exasperation in his facial expressions. She primly tilted her head forwards again, and patted succinctly at the smooth sand directly to her left. 

"Draco, your housewife gossip ring is quite extensive, but you seem to be missing some important information."

Luna gleefully listens to Draco sputter affrontedly at her "housewife gossip ring" comment, but ignores all of the half-hearted threats he mutters under his breath.

"Really Draco, the beach is quite lovely today and you are in desperate need of sunlight. Sit."

She firmed her voice at the end in a faint parody of Ginny's threatening tone, and felt rather proud of herself when Draco immediately made to sit down. Of course, he pulled his outer robe off and transfigured it into an elegant picnic blanket to avoid getting sand on his general person, but progress is progress.

"First, my highly advanced information network is nothing like a housewife's. I don't know where that comparison can be drawn in the first place," Luna hummed lightly in disbelief, and Draco did an admirable job of pretending like she hadn't responded, "Second, what do mean by missing important information? Five sources have confirmed that you and Potter were holding hands, and while I'm willing to reject the idea that there were any white doves involved, the rest of my information is solid."

"Well, some of your 'informants' are very much wrong, but the hand holding part was not inaccurate -"

"What? Are you telling me that there were love sonnets involved? Courting gifts? Halfway decent chocolate?!"

Luna outright laughs at Draco's increasingly horrified tone, but shook her head.

"No, nothing like that. We're both ... interested in other people. There also doesn't need to be romantic intentions behind holding hands, despite common belief." 

Instead of the half-expected scoff, Draco was silent for several moments after Luna's explanation. A tense, yet thoughtful silence hung over the two of them. Luna returned to her half-finished sketch, carefully adding more depth to the drawn thestral's eyes. She half expected Draco to leave, but he remained, gaze focused on somewhere far away. 

In the year after the war ended, several strange things had occurred. One of the strangest, at least from Luna's perspective, was the truce between her and Draco. Throughout the years, she had been reminded of her strangeness, her seemingly enormous differences from her peers, and Draco had been one of the most vocal outside of her own house. While she had never expected anything different from the heir of one of the most traditionalist pureblood families, she never felt the urge to hold a grunge against the bratty child. It was just the way that things were, and while Luna would defend her friends' honor to the death, there seemed to be little reason to do so for herself. 

People saw what they wanted to see, and there were (and still are) many things that would threaten her family's tentative position in the world. However, in the beginning of eighth year, Draco apologized. He apologized verbally for his cruel taunts and barbs over the years, but Luna heard a deeper shame behind his words, one borne from long nights at the Malfoy Manor with barely muffled screams and sobbing echoing from the basement to the attic of that sprawling estate. Luna feels a strong twinge of pity for Malfoy, living alone in such a large and haunted space, with only his mother and long-lived ghosts for company. 

Either way, Luna accepted the apology (how could she not, with the crowd of Wracklespurts nearly completely obscuring the pale blond of Draco's hair). After that, both of them (Luna more so for Draco's benefit) ignored that the apology had happened in the first place. And here they were now, sitting at the edge of the lake, the high noon sun likely branding pale pink sunburns on the back of both of their necks.

"Draco?"

She didn't turn towards him as she spoke, but out of the corner of her eye she saw him flinch slightly, hand abortedly reaching for his wand holster.

"What?" He snapped.

Luna flicked her wand, and summoned her sunscreen from her room in the Ravenclaw tower. Several screams and shouts could be heard in the seconds before the plastic container flew into her outstretched hand. She popped the lid, squirted a thick glob on her palm, and then turned to give the bottle to Draco. His gaping mouth seemed to be a bit of an overreaction.

"Lovegood, you're insane. You know that, right?" Luna would have been offended except for the faint trace of delight in Draco's words.

"Yes, I do. Thank you very much."

"... What is that?"

"Sunscreen! It's a quite convenient Muggle invention." 

Draco eyed the outstretched sunscreen warily, and then used his middle and pointer finger to carefully grip it and squeeze an excessive glob all over his right hand. He made a face at the cool and rather mushy consistency that Luna couldn't help herself from laughing at.

"It's not going to poison you Draco! Just rub it into your skin, it'll prevent sunburns."

With that, Luna started to rub the white cream all over her face, sighing at the cool relief that the sunscreen brought. She was applying the last smudges to her forearms when Draco began to attempt to put the sunscreen on. After 30 seconds of vaguely smooshing the sunscreen all over his exposed skin, Draco turned to her with a triumphant look and a face full of half-way absorbed sunscreen.

"Draco, I think that you missed a little bit."

"Where?"

"Just try and rub the sunscreen in a bit more."

"More? My skin is too sensitive to be exposed to your overdone rubbing. Wizard salves are much more convenient."

Luna should stop surrounding herself with people that severely tested her restraint from laughing directly in their faces. As it is, she can't hell the impish smile from spreading over her face.

"Well, unless you want to brew up something right now, muggle salves is the only thing we have." 

"Muggles are incredibly illogical. What's the point of putting on a protective cream that doesn’t immediately absorb into the skin? And why make the ‘sunscreen’ opaque. The coolness is quite nice, but that's the only good thing I have to say about this 'sunscreen'."

Luna could hear the quotation marks around the word sunscreen, and idly watched as a bit of sunscreen slid down Draco’s cheek.

"Draco, you're dripping."

With a quiet curse, Draco caught the glob sliding down his cheek before it splattered on his robe-cum-picnic blanket. He then began to furiously rub in the sunscreen, face tightened in a hilariously focused look. Luna pulled an ornate hand-held mirror out of her satchel and handed it to Draco. After carefully inspecting his face, Draco turned to Luna with a poorly hidden pout.

"Now my skin's all red. Are you sure that this 'sunscreen' is meant to prevent sunburns?"

"Yes, your skin is just a bit irritated because you rubbed it too hard."

"Humph,"

With that last noise of disgust, Draco returned his gaze to the pitch black waters of the lake. Luna, after a few seconds to recap the sunscreen, returned to her nearly finished thestral portrait. Within five minutes, she finishes the last section of shading, quickly writes her signature, and lightly slaps the parchment onto Draco's forehead. He had gradually slouched into a sprawl, eyes closed and eye bags (wow, Harry wasn't really kidding about their size, they were huge!) marring his pale skin. Draco grunted at the sudden movement, and one pale hand flailed up to grab the parchment.

“Lovegood?”

“Hmmm?” 

“What is it with you and your vaguely terrifying drawings?”

“Do you like it?”

“No, it’s absolutely hideous.”

Luna spun her crossed legs to face the sprawled blonde, and then poked him in the forehead with her wand.

“Lovegood, what was that for?” Draco shrieked, hands scrambling over the roses that were growing at a rapid rate from his scalp. “Ouch! Why did you add thorns?” 

“Because you’re being a total grump. Also, red is absolutely not your color.”

“Bugger off Luna!” Draco said, pushing himself to his feet with a small groan. He flicked his wand at her (her dominant hand made a move to block off a nonexistent curse before she was able to force it back to her side) “I hope you like neon pink freckles...”

Luna watched the blonde start to make his way back up the shoreline path to the main part of Hogwarts, and traced over her newfound freckles with a faint smile. She ignored the way that her heart was only just starting to calm, and pushed away memories of Malfoy’s pale and drawn face that she had seen everyday through the iron bars of her prison for almost a year. The past was in the past, and Nargles only surrounded those who loved with good intentions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have lots of feelings and thoughts about Draco and Luna’s relationship post-main series. i would hesitate to call them friends (too much guilt and past history on both of their parts), but they’re not passing acquaintances either. those sorts of wibbly-wobbly interactions are so interesting to write in my opinion. Also, Draco could compete any day with a suburban housewife and win, fight me if you disagree (not actually, i’m small and afraid of confrontations)


	3. freeze smoke rings and they hail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She dreamed of hands that night on Ginny’s floor, large ones heavily calloused from manual labor. They swallowed her own in a fuzzy and immeasurable warmth, fingers wrapping gently around the delicate bones that made up her wrists. She imagined resting her head against an immovable wall of warmth, taking in the rich scent of freshly turned soil and the verdant smell of thriving plants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all you lovely people!
> 
> I'm very sorry about the long wait between chapters. I'm a slow writer at the best of times, and because of the pandemic I've been working a lot more shifts at the OR. Hopefully I will be able to update again for this fic in the next month, but no promises :(
> 
> chapter title inspo: "Chanel" by Frank Ocean, "American Shibuya Chanel" by Blacc Memer

\-----------------------------------------------------------

Luna could remember that the nargles had swarmed her mother and her father, a crowd of glowing lights following like echoes wherever they walked. Her mother's soft persona evened out her father agitation and rough edges, and their love was enough to keep an entire colony of Nargles alive. Most of them were too busy absorbing the effects of her parent’s love to bother with the small child, but she could remember the light touch as they landed on her shoulders, like a face-full of freshly brewed mint tea. Their language was too soft and dependent on the movement of the Nargle’s tiny jellyfish-like tentacles, but the sounds reminded Luna of wind rustling through the long grass that surrounded her family’s home, soft and protective with a faint twinge of wild magic. 

\-----------------------------------------------------------

Ginny stared at her for a few moments, red hair dangling in in smooth waves down her back and tickling its way down her forearms

“Luna, you do realize that it’s one in the morning, right?”

Luna nodded her head amicably, making sure to stare directly at the Pygmy Puff situated directly on top of Ginny’s head. The poor thing was sniffling slightly, glittery phlegm slowly dripping into red tresses. Ginny looked nearly as bad as her Puff, nose red and eyes clearly watering.

“It wasn’t as if you were going to get any sleep like this. I brought a tea blend that’s supposed to reduce inflammation, and some supplements for your Arnold.”

Ginny looked like she was about two seconds away from crying (from relief or from pure exhaustion, Luna wasn’t quite sure.)

“Thank Morgana, I thought I was about to go bloody crazy, Arnold has been sick all over my bed twice in as many days, and the cleaning charm that I’m using isn’t getting rid of the smell.”

“Hmm, have you tried odor apsens. It works well with dead Blast-Ended Skrewts.”

“Oh Luna, thank you, I’ll have to try that one. I just haven’t had the time! Mum’s been on my case lately about “future careers” and “setting realistic goals”, and there’s the entire ordeal with Harry,” Ginny sighed tiredly, “Well, I can’t say as though I didn’t see it coming, but it still hasn’t set in for Mum that we’re not going to be married and popping out a kid every other year.”

Luna didn’t quite know how to respond to that, but it seemed like Ginny wasn’t looking for a response.

“It’s not as though I wanted -!” With that Ginny sucked in a breath, obviously trying to rein in her famous temper. Luna gives her a few moments to recollect herself, simply sliding around Ginny and starting to send whispered “odor apsens” towards the glittery splotches on Ginny’s carpet. 

“Let’s talk about something else,” Ginny says, shaking her head slightly as if emptying thoughts out through her ears, “Have you thought about OWLs at all?”

“Yes,” Luna says simply, “I’m not so worried, I’m feeling rather confident.”

Ginny flops onto her bed with a dramatic sigh.

“What I wouldn’t give to have your smarts. I see the massive piles of books that I should be studying, and it makes me want to become a hermit in Siberia.”

“Hmm, I think that Siberia might be a little too cold for you. Maybe Australia?”

At this, Ginny lifts her face from the pillow she was smothering it in and gives Luna a baleful glare.

“I’d rather not be a human tomato thank you,” Ginny rolls over completely and stares at the ceiling, “ Also, stop trying to distract me from my failing out of school in three months.”

Luna flops down next to Ginny, gently nudging her in the arm. She pushes down the indignation that someone had made her friend feel like she was less important and brave and smart and less Ginny because she wasn’t the most interested in schoolwork. Ginny was brilliant and effusive and all the things that couldn’t be contained in a classroom or within a twelve inch writing. She learns best by doing it, and by physically experiencing what she needs to know. The hewn wood of a streamlined broom and the purposeful flicks and slashes of a spell were things that Ginny intuitively understood in a way that Luna couldn’t through years and years of study. 

The oppressive rule of the previous year didn’t help either, as Ginny could only do the bare minimum to protect students along with the rest of Dumbledore’s Army. She didn’t talk much about the Carrows, and even less about Snape, but the pauses before Ginny entered the Muggle studies classroom spoke louder than any reassurances. Being unable to protect those more innocent and vulnerable than her had unmade Ginny in a way, and Luna was suddenly and violently angry that Ginny felt like anything less than a star. 

“You’re not stupid. In my opinion, it’s much more important for someone to be compassionate and kind than to be smart academically. If there was a way to test empathy, you would be aces at it. And I say this as someone who had no friends my age before I met you,” As Luna talked, Ginny’s eyes started to tear at the edges, “Also, if you go to Australia, you’ll be a full tomato instead of a partial tomato. Red is absolutely your color.”

Ginny’s grabbed a pillow and is already swinging before Luna finishes, and she ducks under the ginger’s wild arc. The two girls lose several minutes hitting each other with pillows, shrieking laughter spilling from both of their mouths. They lie on the ground next to each other after they tire out, and Luna tracks the dust motes that travel through the air and catch the low light. She thinks of Nargles, and considers that to them, platonic love could be as attractive as romantic love. It’s a pleasant thought that stretches a wide smile over her checks without her having to force it. 

“I’m glad that we’re friends,” Ginny grins at her toothily in response, cheeks flushed with exhilaration, freckles dark and forming constellations across the bridge of her nose.

“Luna, I’m glad that we’re friends too,” Ginny lightly bumps her forehead against  
Luna’s, going cross-eyed as she tries to hold eye contact, “I’d be half the person I was without you.” 

Privately, Luna disagrees with that. Someone as bright as Ginny would shine no matter what. Visibly, Luna smiles softly and bumps Ginny’s forehead back. 

“I as well, I as well.”

Sleep came with grasping hands, and the early February sun was at its peak before either girl even stirred from their warm cocoon of blankets. Luna walked back to the Ravenclaw dormitories with a skip in her step and a sniffle caught in her throat. 

————————————————————————----------

She dreamed of hands that night on Ginny’s floor, large ones heavily calloused from manual labor. They swallowed her own in a fuzzy and immeasurable warmth, fingers wrapping gently around the delicate bones that made up her wrists. She imagined resting her head against an immovable wall of warmth, taking in the rich scent of freshly turned soil and the verdant smell of thriving plants. Dry lips brushing against the top of her head, then at each temple, then at the downward angle of her jaw. Her collarbones being littered with pecks, and a hot mouth sucking at the junction of her neck and shoulder. Those same dependable hands untangling with hers and gently cupping the skin right above her iliac crests, their large mass covering what feels like a complete circle around her waist. Finally, a warm breath exchanging with her own, twin exhalations and inhalations in sync. When Luna wakes, she doesn’t feel the hot warmth in her lower stomach that permeated her dream, but rather a cold rising dread. The light tickle of the Nargles hidden in the tangles of her hair doesn’t help matters.

\----------------------------------------------------

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, ummm....
> 
> how does everyone feel about OT3s? I may have written myself into an OT3 corner, but I can't bring myself to regret it. Ginny and Luna was my first ever sapphic ship, and it shows in this chapter. I also couldn't help myself with the chapter title inspo, I have no self restraint.
> 
> Please leave some love if you want to, I would love to hear your opinions on what I've written so far! Have a great rest of your week!


	4. headlights in the fog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a stressed Hermione appears, Luna is confused (moreso than usual), and there are at least three unfinished conversations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys!
> 
> Hope that everyone is doing well today! I'm in a bit of a funk, so I decided to post this chapter early to see if I can get myself out of it.  
> A couple of warnings before starting this chapter: there is a rather detailed description of a panic attack in the middle of it. If this is potentially triggering for you (absolutely understandable), stop reading at "Merlin forbid" and start again at "Ron Weasley nodded gravely". 
> 
> Also. please let me know whether or not you guys like this chapter, it sometimes feels like I'm posting into the void with this fandom. That's not saying that I'm not appreciative of all the hits and kudos that I'm getting on this world, I love everyone who takes the time to look at this WIP! You guys are honestly the best! But don't be afraid to comment, I honestly treasure feedback from readers!
> 
> Anyways, enough of that! The chapter title is inspired by "I'm Your Wreck" by Mt. Joy, absolutely recommend that song. Enjoy!

The library buzzes with sound as Luna walks in. Tables were eschewed from their normal neat lines, and the anxiety and stress that radiated from every student there is almost physical. Luna herself is starting work on an assignment that’s due in three weeks, mostly because Ginny is busy today with tomorrow’s Potions essay. Luna turns down an isle at random, and sees Hermione. The older girl is situated at her usual table between the rightmost window and the bookshelves containing the history books. A sloppily arranged stack of scrolls sits to the right of the girl’s elbow, and none of her table’s chairs are missing. Luna puts this down to Hermione’s resting facial expression, which on a good day looked like she’s going to eat first years for breakfast (Harry’s words, not hers). 

“Hello Hermione,” At Luna’s greeting, Hermione startles. Her quill slides out of her loose grip and splatters ink over what looked like an Arithmancy assignment. Hermione curses, and quickly mutters a spell that draws the spilled ink back into the quill.

“Hello, sorry. I’m just kind of a mess today,” Luna sees the way that Hermione’s hands shook, the side of her left hand opposite her thumb stained with ink splotches. Usually she is extraordinarily careful about not letting her hand drag over parchments. That, coupled with her painfully fake smile, tells Luna that this might not be the best time to talk. The two of them weren’t anywhere near close enough for that.

Luna knows that she’s always been strange and somewhat unpredictable, and Hermione Granger has never dealt well with strange, unpredictable things. It’s really not either of their faults, and Luna’s still dealing with the revelation that she has friends now. She’s okay with Hermione being closer to an acquaintance than a true friend. 

Luna is opening her mouth to say that she left one of her textbooks back in the Ravenclaw dormitories to successfully escape when Hermione blurts:

“Do you think he loves me, really?” Luna’s sure that she looks absolutely flummoxed, and Hermione grimaces before she continues, “Ron, I mean.”

Luna slowly reaches for the back of a chair, pulling it back as she sits down. She has no idea why Hermione is talking to her of all people about this, but it’s clear that she’s been stewing over this for a while.

“I know he does,” Luna hesitates before continuing “The Nargles surround both of you. It’s a very clear sign that two people are in love.”

Instead of her usually exasperated growl at Luna’s mention of Nargles, a strange, unknown look crosses Hermione’s face. 

“I was wrong about you Luna,” Hermione huffs as Luna continues to stare, “While I can’t verify everything that you say, which is irritating, I can recognize that you have been correct more often than you haven’t,” As she finishes this last part, she looks slightly constipated, but plows onwards, “I apologize for my behavior towards you.”

Luna privately thought that Harry had put Hermione up to this, but she smiles at the other woman.

“It’s quite alright, you don’t need to-”

“But I do!” Hermione looks startled at her interruption, mouth quivering before she can collect her thoughts, “I was wrong, and when I’m wrong I want to fix it! Harry has been sleeping much better since you talked to him, and he’s started to eat again. Ron and I have been working on him for months, and you managed to convince him that his own life is worth living in a single meeting. I’m jealous that you reached him in a way that we couldn’t, and I’m starting to realize that I was wrong in the way that I thought about you.

“You don’t often make sense, but you always seem to be right about things. Not in an obvious way, but in a roundabout way that makes perfect sense when you look back on it. I would itch for a way to see if the things you see are actually here. If I could only get my hands on some muggle testing methods-”

At this, Hermione devolves into a series of mumbles about X-ray machine and Ultraviolet light, but Luna can’t pay attention to that. If the last year and a half taught her anything, it’s that she’s used to her entire world changing in the blink of an eye. But Hermione, one of the most stubborn and determined people that Luna knows, admitting that she’s wrong about something without grimacing more than once… Luna pinches herself to check that this isn’t one of her particularly vivid daydreams, but Hermione is still in front of her, scribbling furiously onto a parchment.

“-I ought to look more into Divination, Merlin forbid, but it can’t be helped. Maybe-”

Luna feels her chest constricting, and she suddenly feels like she can’t breathe. The edges of her vision are going black, and she feels her heart palpitating furiously behind her ribcage. She grips the side of the chairs hard, but feels her arms and hands going numb. She needed to get out, there was no way that Hermione knew-!

“Hermione, give Lovegood a break! She looks like she’s about to faint.” A shadow falls over Luna, but she can’t bring herself to unravel yet. The shadow backs away slightly, and when the voice spoke again it was a with a undertone of concern, “Hey, are you okay? Bloody- okay, can you breathe with me?”

Luna barely manages to make herself nod, trying to focus past the adrenaline rushing her system. 

“Okay, breathe in for one, two, three, four, you’re doing great. Now hold for seven: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Exhale for one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.”

The voice leads her through the breathing exercise for what feels like an eternity, but eventually Luna can think past the thudding in her chest and the twisting sensations in her gut. She wants to tell the voice that they can stop, that she’s okay now, but Luna can’t quite move her mouth yet. So the voice continues, low and strong and constant until all Luna feels is a vague sense of something icky. She unravels herself upwards and twists around in her seat.

“Thank you,” Luna’s voice is stronger than she thought it would be, but carried a rasp that only came from extended hyperventilation. 

Ron Weasley nodded gravely, his typically jovial expression replaced by a somber thin-lipped frown. He’s alternating being scrutinizing Luna and sharing a non-verbal conversation with Hermione. It’s not going well if the darkening of Ron’s expression is anything to go by. She assumes that Ron has already figured out the gist of what had happened.

Luna doesn’t understand how anyone could think of Ron Weasley as stupid. He holds himself with an air of earned gravitas, and his shoulders are always held strong and level, a product of natural-born charisma and hard-won experience. She remembers Ron directing groups of students in the Battle of Hogwarts, and how she saw the solidity and authority he exuded, like an eye of the storm in the chaos of that fight. That wasn’t even including Ron’s expertise at Wizarding Chess. If Harry was the beacon, then Ron was the lighthouse that supported him and stood tall amongst the crashing waves. 

Of everyone who has changed over the course of the war, Ron might be the one who has changed the most. He was no longer prone to jealous rages and an overwhelming lack of confidence, and no longer Harry Potter’s shadow. He was strong in his own right, quick and clever when it came down to the line. No one could say he was simply the least important of the Golden Trio now and be taken seriously.

“Luna, how’re you feeling right now? Are you hungry? Thirsty?” Ron made a move to clap his hand on Luna’s back, but flattered last second, “Oh shit, are you okay with being touched right now?”

“Luna!” Luna spins around. Hermione’s face is pale and panicked-looking “I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to- is there anything I can do? Anything at all? I have some bottled water, and some crisps. I don’t know how good they are, but-” 

Hermione cuts herself off when Ron motions frantically. It’s too late at this point. Luna can feel bile rising up her throat and stands abruptly, spilling Hermione’s inkwell again. It spreads over the table as Luna flees to the library’s exit. She can hear two sets of footsteps following her, and Luna stumbles into a run. Her thoughts race wildly, but one remains in the front and center of her mind.

Have I given myself away?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A wild plot emerges! At last!
> 
> Also:   
> Hi, I'm sorry that I made Hermione kind of mean and oblivious in this chapter. I honestly love her character, but her and Luna have a complicated relationship in canon, and this is written from Luna's POV. Also, I feel that even though Hermione's characterization suggests that she also suffers from anxiety, people who suffer from anxiety might not completely understand/avoid overwhelming another person with anxiety that manifests differently. Don't worry, I am almost positive that Hermione will play a very important and positive role in this fanfic.
> 
> Question: I have a spotify playlist that I use when writing this work. I'm not going to link it on here because my account is linked to my school email, but would you guys want me to potentially add a list of all of the songs in the end end notes? Another option is me creating a YouTube playlist. Let me know what you guys want!


	5. so cheap to think the afterlife is given

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a flashback.
> 
> (i.e when Luna learns something she shouldn't have)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title inspo: "vanessa" del water gap
> 
> even though JKR decided to show her true colors, I will continue posting to this fandom out of spite. Also, I am officially making it gay (er). It was pretty gay to begin with, but it goes downhill from here.
> 
> thank you for reading, and i hope you have a great rest of your day!

It’s late in the evening when Luna walks with whisper-light footsteps to the kitchen. The stairs from her bedroom to the main level are twisted with age, but her father had sandpapered them smooth a month ago so Luna doesn’t bother putting shoes on. She had been at home alone for most of the day with just Wrackspurts for company, and had gotten so caught up in drawing and painting that she had forgotten to eat dinner. Her mother and father hadn’t returned yet from the hospital, so she thinks she has time to eat something before her mother scolds her. She pads into the tiled kitchen, and reaches up to turn on the lights. Butters, the family cat, raises her head from where she’s lying on the breakfast island. Her golden eyes follow Luna as she walks towards the fridge and grabs a bowl of cut up honeydew. Luna picks up a spoon and makes her way to the living room, distractedly noticing that it was storming outside. The shutters on the living room window rattle as she sits on the couch. Luna scrunches up her face and snaps her fingers, and the neatly folded blanket in the corner drifts over, unfolds, and covers her in warmth.

She only manages a couple of bites before she hears a loud crack coming from the front entryway, Luna puts the bowl down on the battered coffee table and rushes in the direction of the sound.

“Mama! Papa!” 

Her parents stand in the front entryway, entirely dry despite the storm raging outside and little eight-year old Luna couldn’t resist running up to them and wrapping her arms tightly around the closest part of her parents that she can reach. Unfortunately, this means that the adults stagger as their knees are hugged fiercely. 

“So enthusiastic my little papillon!” Luna giggles at the nickname and beams up at her mother, “Did you do anything fun while we were gone?”

“I drew and I painted, and before Bill went home we played Dragons and Thestrals! Bill was the dragon and I was the thestral.”

Luna doesn’t notice the worried frowns that her parents exchange.

“Bill went home already Luna?” Her father asks worriedly.

“Yeah, Charlie broke his arm, and Mrs. Weasley was really sad so she sent one of those glowy spirit animals. I told Bill that he could go home early because I’m a big kid now and I’d be okay.” Luna shuffles nervously, and looks up at her parents with a pout, “I was gonna let you know, but I forgot where Mama and Papa went, and I know I shouldn’t use Floo powder when I don’t know where I’m going. But I pinky promised Bill I would stay inside and not leave the house at all until Mama and Papa got back. Please don’t be mad at Bill, he wanted to stay but I made him promise to leave because he was really worried.”

Luna’s voice is shaky and high from a lack of oxygen when she stops talking, and she stares at her feet, not wanting to look her parents in the face.

“Papillion?” Upon hearing Mama's voice, Luna looks up, teary-eyed, and squeaks when Mama throws her arms around her and lifts her off the ground. Papa’s flapping his arms like he did when Luna tried to fly by jumping out of a second story window when she was six, and he starts babbling in a high-pitched voice.

“Love, please be careful. The doctor said-” Papa stops talking, and Luna knows that her mother is wearing her scary face.

“Xen, please don’t worry so much. The doctor is right, but Luna is very light, just like a pap-ill-ion” Mama rocks Luna back and forth and Luna shrieks delightedly, burying her face in her Mama’s neck. She can smell a chemical scent of lemon lingering over her mother’s usual smell of rhubarb and cinnamon, and wrinkles her nose slightly.

“Little Luna, I’m very proud of you,” As Luna tries to speak, her mother hushes her, and places her back onto solid ground. “I wish that you had tried to contact us, but you’re right in that Flooing can be very dangerous if you don’t know where you’re going. But you were a very good girl when you didn’t leave the house after Bill went home. Did you eat dinner yet?”

At Luna’s headshake, Papa brightened and clapped his hands together briskly

“Well, I think that being a very brave and smart girl means that you deserve your favorite food for dinner?” Papa then turns to Mama and in that gooshy voice says, “Dear? How about you let me take care of this meal?”

Mama looks like she wants to argue, but something in Papa’s expression has her smiling and shaking her head bemusedly.

“I suppose I can trust you in the kitchen this once.” At this, Papa’s face gets all twisty, and Luna giggles.

“Pandora, do I need to remind you what happens when I leave you alone in the kitchen?” 

As her parents talk in a soothing pattern above her head and the smell of pasta cooking fills the small kitchen, Luna waits for the strange tension in the air to dissipate. She’s more observant than a lot of people assume an eight-year old child should be. As such, she didn’t miss the split second of exhaustion and fear that sat in the lines of Mama and Papa’s faces or the way that Mama’s hands haven’t stopped shaking even though she was out of the cold wind and rain battering the countryside around their home. Luna thinks throughout dinner and getting ready for bedtime about what could have happened to make her Papa look that desperate and sad.

So she lies in bed for what feels like hours, listening to the storm continue to rage. When she knows that her parents will think that she’s asleep, she slides out of bed slowly. Her slippers muffle the sound of her walking to the staircase. She descends to the third step down, and crouches slowly, making sure that she doesn’t sit on the creaky part of the second step down. Then she peers down the staircase.

Her Papa is lying on the couch with his head in Mama’s lap and his back to the staircase. Mama is gently carding her fingers through Papa’s long hair, and is leaning forward far enough that Luna can’t make out her Mama’s face past her blond hair. Luna suddenly feels as though she’s intruding on something she wasn’t supposed to see, but she bolsters her resolve at the strong feeling of guilt that rocks her. She needs to find out what’s making Mama and Papa sad, so she can try and make things better.

They sit in silence for many seconds before Mama starts talking.

“Xen?” Upon hearing Mama’s nickname for him, Papa stirs and makes to sit up. Mama stops him with a hand on his shoulder, and gently pushes him back onto the couch. “Shh, you don’t have to get up yet. How are you feeling?”

“I can’t believe that you’re the one asking me how I feel Pandora, I should be asking you that-” Luna’s more worried than she was before. She’s never heard Papa sound like that before, like he had just swallowed glass. She had seen her Papa cry before, but this was worse.

“Do you need to go down?” Mama cuts Papa off mid sentence, and Luna doesn’t know what Mama means, but Papa waits a second, and then shakes his head. “Okay darling, let me know if that changes, okay?”

“Of course love,” Luna is relieved to hear her Papa’s normal voice, albeit a bit shaky and wet. 

Mama waits a couple of seconds for Papa to relax before she starts talking again.

“Promise that you’ll take good care of her?” Papa makes the same sound a wounded animal does at Mama’s words and sits up, brushing off Mama’s hand when she tries to get him to lie back down. Papa turns towards Mama and grabs her hands and trunks her so they’re face to face, legs tangled up together.

“Pandora, don’t talk like that. The doctor says that you have a couple of years before-” Papa’s voice cracks on before. Luna resists the growing urge to run back upstairs and bury herself in her blankets, to pretend that this conversation wasn’t happening. She digs her nails deep into her palms as Mama responds, gently rubbing the backs of Papa’s hands with her thumbs.

“Xen, I saw it coming, when I still had my sight. It’s sooner than the doctor thinks. I might be alive when Luna goes to Hogwarts, but I won’t truly be living.”

“Why must Death be so cruel to you? You no longer serve him.” At this, Mama laughs. It’s not a happy laugh, like Luna is so used to hearing from her mother. Instead, it’s ripe with pain and an awful sort of knowing. 

“My love, one serves Death for life. I was foolish to think that I could escape my servitude, even if it was for Luna.”

“Is she-?” Papa whispers, so slow that Luna has to strain to hear what he’s saying.

“Yes,” Mama’s voice finally breaks and she throws her arms around Papa, sobs muffled in Papa’s shirt. Luna can feel silent tears sliding down her face as she slips up the stairs and back into her bed. Her head spins as she struggles to decipher what her parents were talking about. Mama served Death? What, who was Death?

When she finally sleeps, it’s shallow and disturbed by nightmares of a hooded figure with a bloody scythe, eye sockets empty and a body made of bones. She runs as fast as she can from the figure, but the ground turns into quicksand and she’s sinking. The last thing she hears before she’s swallowed by the earth is:

“Debts to Death can never be repaid in one lifetime, only delayed. Best remember that, little butterfly.”

\-----------------------------------------------

When Luna wakes, it takes her a second to realize that she’s seventeen, not eight, and that her mother has been dead eight years. She stares up at the blue canopy above her bed, her heart rabbiting in her chest and her skin covered in a clammy sweat. Her legs are tangled in the sheets that she had kicked to the foot of the bed in a restless sleep haze, and she can feel blood trickling from where her nails had dug so deep into the palm of her hand that they broke the skin. 

Suddenly, she thinks to turn her head to the side to see if she woke any of her bedmates with her nightmarish memories. She sighs with relief when it’s clear that no one is awake yet except her, despite the sunlight weakly filtering through the narrow-paned windows. Luna sits up quickly, ignoring the nauseating roll of her stomach and the sudden spinning of her head. She needs to clear her head, go for a walk, take a half hour to recharge before she has to interact with others. As she moves to stand, she can feel her heart rate jump and black begin to crawl at the edges of her vision. She’s able to stretch her arms out in front of her and brace for the impending fall before the world goes black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhh, tell me what you think!! likes? dislikes? i was on a call with my friend here on ao3 (their username is silversunset, check them out they have a good HP fic) and she was posting her chapter, so here I am posting mine. 
> 
> anyways, I have so many feelings about the relationship between Luna's mother and father. I threw in a couple of personal headcanons, so if you have questions ask! I may not answer (especially if they come up in the plot later) but please ask! I love engaging with you guys!
> 
> also, pls notice that I added a tentative chapter length. if all goes well, it will not be longer than this *sweat drops* can't promise anything though :(


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